


I Can't Say I'm Surprised

by day7



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mental Health Issues, Sad Louis, Trigger Warnings, im really sorry, mentions of mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6660241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/day7/pseuds/day7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, Louis had the world. Now, he has nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Say I'm Surprised

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! This is my first fic I've actually been proud enough of to post, so please give me any feedback, including any criticism.  
> Please DO NOT read if you do not like sad fics or are sensitive to death. Stay safe!

Louis missed Harry. He missed the way he laughed, the way he cried, the way he talked. Harry wasn’t away, but they just didn’t interact as much as they used to. He missed the way Harry kissed his eyelids when he thought Louis was asleep, and how he would always keep an arm around Louis when they were in public. All the little mannerisms that seemed ordinary are what Louis cherished the most. But if he had to choose, it would be the way Harry kept him warm.  
Every morning, Louis forced himself out of bed. Harry was always still asleep. Louis was a sheet-stealer, but Harry never complained. He felt guilty when he touched Harry’s skin and found it to be very cold. Louis thought that to be funny, for Harry was always warm, blanket or not. Sometimes when it felt near impossible to get himself up, he stayed in bed all day until the sun set. He didn’t shower or brush his teeth, because that’s what he and Harry did together, and he was waiting until Harry woke up to do that. 

He threw on some clothes, not caring if they were clean or not, and proceeded down the stairs. Louis skipped breakfast. He skipped lunch and dinner, too. He wasn’t hungry anymore. Occasionally he ate tacos, but only because it was Harry’s favorite food.

Louis went out everyday. It didn’t matter what time; whether it was six in the morning or eleven at night, Louis still went out. He wrapped Harry in the stolen blankets before he departed, to keep him warm. Harry was asleep when he left, but Louis didn’t mind. He and Harry didn’t talk a lot anymore, anyway.

Most of the time he went to the park. That was Harry’s favorite spot to be. Other times he would just drive around. Louis didn’t have any friends. He’d deleted their contacts because they’d told him mean and untrue things about Harry. He shouldn’t have bothered, anyway, because soon after, he’d thrown his phone away.

When Louis got home, Harry was still sleeping, but Louis didn’t worry. Harry always left him a note;

 _Hey, babe. Got up for a few hours, but went_  
_back to sleep. I’ll talk to you when I wake up._  
_I love you. xx_

Louis smiled at the note every time.

When he felt up to it, he changed into sleep clothes. But the majority of the time, he crawled into bed next to his lover and tried to sleep. When he didn’t go easily, he talked to Harry. He didn’t care that he wasn’t awake.  
He told Harry about everything. He talked about what they used to talk about. He talked about his day, what he was wearing, what he saw at the park. He talked about his opinions on life, his new ideas, and the hatred for his therapist. Harry never stirred, but he seemed to understand. And finally, Louis would drift to sleep. He cuddled up to Harry’s sleeping body, again; to keep him warm. And then the entire thing repeated.

After a couple days, something started to smell. Louis was confused at first, but then he realized he hadn’t showered in a long, long time; and that was probably it.  
The smell got increasingly worse day by day. But Louis was waiting for Harry.  
Oh, well. The shower was probably broken, anyway.

One day, when Louis was talking to Harry, he heard a noise. For a moment, Louis thought he had imagined it, but the sound came again. Louder, this time.  
It was downstairs. A banging on the door. Louis froze; paralyzed with fear. It could be anyone.  
But Louis knew who it was. He knew that they were people who wanted to poison him, take him away from Harry. They didn’t want Louis to be happy. And they were trying to break into their house.  
Louis was still unable to move. He could only wait and pray the intruders wouldn’t find their room.  
His prayers were never answered. Shortly after they had broken into their home, they found the room.  
The door was kicked in and men in yellow suits and oxygen masks rushed in.  
Louis’ blood ran cold.  
One of the men approached the bed where Louis cowered. He caught Louis by the elbow, tugging him up. Louis cried out, for the man’s tough glove felt like fire against his skin. He ripped his arm away and ran back to the bed, gathering a still-sleeping Harry into his arms and hugging him close.  
The man sighs from behind his mask, gently peeling Louis’ weak body off of Harry. “It’s time to go.”  
_No._ Louis tries to tell him, shaking his head. _No._  
He thrusts the note at the strange man, the note from Harry, but he doesn’t even glance at it. Louis becomes angry. He knows that behind the mask, there are demons disguised as people.They’re too scared to come out because they’re afraid of him.  
The first man catches Louis again, but Louis refuses to leave. He won’t leave Harry.  
Another man goes to help the first, and they drag Louis away. Louis kicks and screams in their grasp, reaching out for Harry, but Harry doesn’t move. He was still asleep.  
_Wake up, Harry,_ Louis cries. _Wake up._  
But Harry never does open his eyes.

~

The body in the coffin looked like Harry, but Louis knew it wasn’t. It was pale and thin and frighteningly cold and not anything like the Harry he knew. Harry was warm. He was warm and muscular and friendly, while this body was limp, face pinched into a forever scowl. Louis knew better.  
After the demons had captured him, they took him into a room with no color that smelled of detergent. They made him stay there and eat. They made him shower, brush his teeth. Louis decided that he hated them.  
They took him to his friends and family, who were happy to see him, but the feelings weren’t reciprocated. He wanted to see Harry.  
They tried to tell him Harry was dead, but Louis didn’t believe them. He just smiled.  
_Harry died in his sleep,_ they said. _It was a terminal disease that killed him. You saw it coming._  
But Louis doesn’t recall ever hearing or seeing anything about Harry dying, so he decides that it must be a joke. Because he knows Harry isn’t dead.  
_He promised to talk to me when he woke up,_ Louis had said. _Harry’s never broken a promise before._  
Nobody said anything after that.

Louis’ mother got him to come home, stay with his family for a little while. His step father didn’t say a word when Louis came in the house. His sisters hid in their rooms, like they were scared of him or something. Louis couldn’t blame them. He was scared of himself, too.  
His mother was the only person that would talk to him.  
Well, she tried to. Louis meant to respond, he really did, but he was too distraught. He missed Harry, and that’s all he ever talked about; when he did (which was rarely) ever speak.  
“I miss my son,” she whimpered to him sometimes, which confused Louis. _I’m right here,_ he thought. He never did say the words out loud, though.

~

The day of the funeral was only a week after they had found Louis with Harry’s body. A lot of people came, but Louis didn’t recognize any of them. He saw two women that looked vaguely like Harry stop in front of the coffin. They said something Louis couldn’t hear, then moved along into the sea of grievers, all of which who were dressed in black. Louis, however, he wore green. He wore green because it was the color of Harry’s eyes, and that’s the Harry he fell in love with. Not the sickly ghost of a person that rested in the coffin.  
Louis saw lots of people cry, but he never shed a single tear himself. He didn’t understand why they were so sad. He tried to tell them that Harry was, in fact, living and breathing, but nobody listened to him.  
_You must be depressed,_ a lot of people told him. _The love of your life doesn’t exist anymore._  
_He does exist,_ Louis replied forcefully. _He’s only sleeping._  
But they only moved on, staring at him with eyes full of sadness and sympathy.  
And Louis never understood why nobody else could see what he could.

At the burial, Louis still showed no sign of emotion. He saw everyone glancing at him, like they expected him to do something. Something Louis didn’t know.  
The day is drizzly and gray, like the world was crying for the death of Harry Styles.  
There were more tears when the coffin was lowered into the ground. Louis recognizes the two women from earlier throw in a rose after it, in which many people follow suit. Louis doesn’t have a rose to throw, so he throws his shoe in instead. Nobody questions it.  
And finally, the hole is filled in with earth. Everyone begins to leave, but Louis stays to help. It looks like an awful lot of work for only three people to be doing. The workers look at him like he’s crazy, which maybe he is, but they don’t protest.  
Louis’ hands and knees are muddy from filling in the deep crater, but he doesn’t care. No one is at the graveyard anymore. He stares at the new grave, big and gray and not Harry-like at all. It has his name on it, though, including his birth date. Louis fills the engraved “end date” with fresh earth, because he believes that Harry isn’t dead. He feels proud, for he continued to believe in himself when no one else did, and he knows Harry would’ve been proud of him too.  
Harry _is_ proud of him, Louis reminds himself, and he’s not surprised when the world becomes clear.  
“Goodbye, Harry,” Louis whispers shakily, so quietly it was barely audible. He still doesn’t feel empty, like he was supposed too. He smiles an upside-down smile, the knowledge that Harry was sleeping comforting his hurting heart.

So Louis leaves the graveyard, something like a feeling weighing in his chest, and lets Harry and his warmth rest in peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it?  
> **please do not repost on any other sites. shank you .xx


End file.
